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GIFT  OF 
Class   of    1887 


"7  2- 


Ballade  of  Liberty 

and  Other  Patriotic.Verses  -  •, .  ;  .-. 


BY 

EMMA  FRANCES  DAVVSON 


SECOND   EDITION 


Copyright,  1917 

by 
EMMA  FRANCES  DAWSON 


8' 


Ballade  of  Liberty 

SHE  came  unseen  upon  the  ship  Mayflower; 
The  Continentals  conjured  her  from  space ; 
How  luminous,  how  kind  her  eyes  of  power; 

Her  smile  gave  Union  army  heart  of  grace. 
Great  is  her  might,  for  she  is  of  one  race 
With  Thought,  Infinity,  and  the  Most  High. 
See  to  it  that  a  guard  shall  now  draw  nigh. 

Themselves  they  honor  who  her  right  uphold. 
Americans !     Are  we  to  hear  the  cry : 

Is  that  the  Goddess  Liberty  blindfold? 

Her  eyes !    Proud  thoughts  of  Freedom  for  their  dower, 
Strength  of  vast  sky  where  no  winds  interlace, 

And  pity  for  the  souls  that  cringe  and  cower, 

All  those  in  bonds  of  narrow  thought  or  place, 
Beyond  compassion  of  the  Night's  embrace 

That  takes  the  tired  half-world  to  lullaby, 

With  balm  of  sleep  beguiles  its  pain  and  sigh, 

Or  shows,  for  toys,  wide  tracts  of  stars  of  gold, 

Americans  !     Beware !     Wait  not  the  cry : 

Is  that  the  Goddess  Liberty  blindfold? 


930841 


BALLADE  OF  LIBERTY 


Her  stately  beauty  deepens  every  hour, 

Let  no  rude  hand  her  guardianship  disgrace ! 
Longed  for  through  ages  and  their  perfect  flower, 

Is  there  a  shadow  falling  on  her  face? 

The  heights  of  Air  are  hers,  and  Earth  at  base 
Where  the  unfathomed  depths  of  ocean  lie. 
If  she  should  ever  turn  from  us  to  fly 

How  then  would  all  her  virtues  be  extolled! 
Americans !     Shall  she  give  smothered  cry  ? 

Is  that  the  Goddess  Liberty  blindfold? 

ENVOY 

Americans!     What  if  stern  ghosts  came  by? 
Amazement,  sorrow,  wrath,  in  every  eye; 

Our  heroes,  slain  to  leave  us  uncontrolled ; 
How  could  we  bear  their  bitter  anguished  cry: 

fs  that  the  Goddess  Liberty  blindfold? 


Read  at  the  municipal  celebration  of  the  Fourth  of  July  in 
San  Francisco,  1899. 


The  Voice  of  California 

Soulless  I  lay, 

Though  mine  the  reach  of  redwoods  star  communing, 
And  might  of  snowy  mountains  that  affray, 

Long  importuning, 
The  insolent,  persistent  sea 
Roared,  pushed  and  vainly  questioned  me. 
The  ages  passed  me  like  the  tossing  spray, — 
I  had  no  yesterday. 

I  did  not  mark 
The  rush  of  trampling  rain  and  wind  reviling, 

Nor  thrill  of  dread  that  touched  athwart  the  dark 

From  fell  moon  smiling; 
Knew  not  of  hour  nor  place  nor  man, 
Still  blank  in  the  Eternal  Plan. 
Fresh  star  might  flame  or  old  go  out  like  spark, 
For  me  a  rayless  arc. 

I  could  not  fear 
The  brutal  sunshine's  grasp,  so  fiercely  holding, 

Nor  fog,  like  Silence  taken  shape,  drawn  near, 

Closely  blindfolding. 
I,  unaware,  with  the  huge  world, 
Still  on,  through  space  mysterious  hurled, 
To  ride  the  heavens,  or  to  disappear, — 
Wind,  Darkness,  only,  near. 


THE  VOICE  OF  CALIFORNIA 


Tumult  and  glare! 

Volcano,  earthquake,  or  the  Hour  befalling? 
From  outer  gloom  I  entered  crystal  air, 

Heard  ocean  calling, 
Saw  cloudland  mocking  billowy  tide, 
My  loneliness  descried. 
Though  of  my  savage  beauty  half  aware, 
I  felt  but  vague  despair. 


My  fit  ally 

The  grizzly,  that  the  Indian  calls  undying, 
Stood  over  me  and  looked  into  my  eye 

Of  firm  replying. 

I  saw  my  monstrous  vulture  swoop 
Above  the  wolves  in  hurrying  troop 
Behind  a  plunging  bison  herd  gone  by, 
Then  but  great  empty  sky. 


I  raised  my  head, 
Beheld  red  shaman  making  incantation, 

An  old  man  Elemental  Powers  had  bred 

To  change  creation ; 
He  turned  to  bird  or  dog,  or  deer, 
Could  go  and  come  or  disappear. 
Grim,  painted  warriors  round  a  great  fire  led 
Weird  dance  where  shadows  sped. 


THE  VOICE  OF  CALIFORNIA 


On  elbow  then, 

And  watching  gulls  their  stout  wings  long  uplifting, 
I  spied  a  junk  with  friar  Buddhists  ten, 

Pass  wrecked  and  drifting. 
Long  after  came  a  caravel ; 
I  saw  the  sailors  meet,  rebel, 
And  Cortez  singly,  unawed  even  then, 
Face  his  mad,  cursing  men ! 

I  sat  upright: 

The  peace  was  mine  of  olive  orchards  spreading; 
Of  thick,  green  branches  gleaming  yellow  light, 

Ere  globed  fruit  shedding ; 
Of  vines  that,  bubbling  grapes,  foretell 
The  beaded  wine  of  cheery  spell; 
Of  browsing  sheep  in  meadows  without  blight; 
And  cattle  bells  at  night. 


Chant,  taper,  prayer; 
Great  roses  Mission  gardens  overflowing, 

With  lilies  of  Saint  Joseph  clustered  there, 

Like  pale  dawn  showing; 
Soft  chime  unfolding  flowers  of  sound, 
That  breathing,  wreathing,  floated  round, 
Enthralling,  calling,  falling  through  the  air, 
With  saints'  names  everywhere. 


THE  VOICE  OF  CALIFORNIA 


Naught  was  to  rue. 
In  chaparral  not  hiding,  seeking,  running, 

My  tufted  quail  went  pertly  strutting  through, 

No  thicket  shunning. 
The  Yaqui  diver  brought  up  pearl 
Watched  but  by  surges'  crest  and  curl; 
My  magic  glass  of  atmosphere,  strong,  true, 
Gave  him  far  scenes  to  view. 


Drawn  to  my  knee, 

There  came  disputing  voices,  weapons  glistened, 
Where  to  guitar  and  castanet  in  glee, 

I  late  had  listened. 
Before  I  knew,  I  saw  o'er  me 
The  mighty  flag  of  Liberty, 
Fit  for  my  half-barbaric  realm  of  sea 
And  land  untrodden,  free. 


There  comfort  lies, 
Illuminated  missal  page  sent  flying, 

In  red  and  white  and  blue  it  testifies, 

Heart  satisfying, 

Brief  line  of  David's  psalm,  with  stress 
No  more  shall  man  of  earth  oppress! 
Like  bow  of  promise  after  rainy  skies, 
It  gladdens  all  men's  eyes. 


THE  VOICE  OF  CALIFORNIA 


Erect  I  stood, 
Amid  my  yellow  poppies  nodding,  hinting 

"Ah!     Gold  is  a  chimera!"  as  they  shewed 

Massed  sunshine  glinting; 
No  ore  could  fashion  their  fair  cup, 
Nor  riches  stay  its  withering  up. 
Yet  now  my  mountain  passes'  solitude 
Heard  ring  of  steel  intrude. 

«• 

A  throng  of  men ! 

The  rule  of  priest  had  changed  to  that  of  layman, 
Who  roving,  rifling  far  ravine  and  glen, 

Seemed  spell  of  shaman, 
With  brutes  in  human  guise,  in  swarm, 
Were  men  that  death  need  not  transform. 
Absorbed  I  watched  them,  till,  to  my  dazed  ken, 
My  spirit  strengthened  then. 


I  found  man's  soul 
Has  tragic  grandeur  of  vast  gorges  lonely, 

Deeper  than  echoes  of  the  world  may  roll, 

And  mist-veiled  only; 
Impulsive  dash  and  cry  and  flight 
Of  cascade  glimpsing  heavenly  height; 
Is  strong  as  immemorial  pine's  stern  bole, 
Weak  as  spent  wind's  control. 


10  THE  VOICE  OF  CALIFORNIA 

A  soul  in  me 
Traced  in  the  universe  no  limitation; 

A  trend  toward  Central  Force  of  mystery, 

Whose  veiled  vibration 

Through   Nature  and  through   Man  we  know 
As  Love,  and  Truth,  and  Beauty's  glow, 
Behold  through  interchanging  of  these  three 
Eternal  Unity. 

Thus  I  discerned 
The  big  sea-lion  on  my  shore  reposing, 

The  little  ant  beneath  my  wood  leaves  turned, 

A  heart  disclosing; 

From  moon  and  tide,  the  hush  of  night, 
The  stir  and  song  at  morning  light, 
And  through  men's  souls  when  hidden  linking 
burned, 

Of  Sympathy  I  learned. 

I  faced  the  east, 

One  hand  above  my  eyes  for  earnest  gazing : 
Afar,  aloft,  a  tiny  speck  increased, — 

The  noon  was  blazing, — 
I  watched  it  surely  drawing  nigh, 
In  wide  curves  sweeping  through  the  sky, 
And  every  year  I  pause,  my  thought  to  feast 
On  joy  that  has  not  ceased. 


THE  VOICE  OF  CALIFORNIA  11 

O  happy  tryst! 
To  meet  the  Day  I  stood  my  arms  upraising 

In  yearning  loveliness  where  naught  is  missed. 

I  hear  all  praising, 

My  breath  is  balm,  my  veins  run  gold, 
My  pride  is — sister  hearts  enfold, 
Our  Eagle,  circling  with  calm  eyes  sun-kissed, 
Alighted  on  my  wrist! 


Read  at  the  celebration  of  Admission  Day  by  California  at 
the  Chicago  Fair,  1893. 


44 


Old  Glory!" 

(Chant  Royal) 

Enchanted  web !     A  picture  in  the  air, 

Drifted  to  us  from  out  the  distance  blue, 
From  shadowy  ancestors  through  whose  brave  care 

We  live  in  magic  of  a  dream  come  true. 
With  Covenanters'  blue,  as  if  were  glassed 
In  dewy  flower-heart  the  stars  that  passed; 

O  blood-veined  blossom  that  can  never  blight! 

The  Declaration,  like  a  sacred  rite, 
Is  in  each  star  and  stripe  declamatory, 

The  Constitution  thou  shalt  long  recite, 
Our  hallowed,  eloquent,  beloved  "Old  Glory!" 

O  symphony  in  red,  white,  blue!     fanfare 

Of  trumpet,  roll  of  drum,  forever  new 
Reverberations  of  the  Bell,  that  bear 

Its  tones  of  Liberty  the  wide  world  through! 
In  battle  dreaded  like  a  cyclone  blast ! 
Symbol  of  land  and  people  unsurpassed, 

Thy  brilliant  day  shall  never  have  a  night. 

On    foreign   shore   no   pomp   so   grand   a   sight, 
No  face  so  friendly,  naught  consolatory 

Like  glimpse  of  lofty  spar  with  thee  bedight, 
Our  hallowed,  eloquent,  beloved  "Old  Glory!" 


*  "Old  Glory !"  as  our  flag  was  baptized  by  our  soldiers  dur 
ing  the  Rebellion.— PREBLE. 


"OLD  GLORY!"  13 

Thou  art  the  one  Flag,  an  embodied  prayer, 

One,  highest  and  most  perfect  to  review, 

Without  one  nothing;    it  is  lineal,  square, 

Has  properties  of  all  the  numbers,  too, 

Cube,  solid,  square  root,  root  of  root,  best  classed 

It  for  his  Essence  the  Creator  cast. 

For  purity  are  thy  six  stripes  of  white, 
This  number  circular  and  endless  quite, 

Six  times,  well  knows  the  scholar  wan  and  hoary, 
His  compass,  spanning  circle,  can  alight, — 

Our  hallowed,  eloquent,  beloved  "Old  Glory!" 


Boldly  thy  seven  lines  of  scarlet  flare; 

As  when  o'er  old  centurion  it  blew. 
(Red  is  the  trumpet's  tone,  it  means  to  dare!) 

God  favored  seven  when  creation  grew : 
The  seven  planets,  seven  hues  contrast; 
The  seven  metals,  seven  days,  not  last 

The  seven  tones  of  marvelous  delight 

That  lend  the  listening  soul  their  wings  for  flight ; 
But  why  complete  the  happy  category 

That  gives  thy  thirteen  stripes  their  charm  and 

might  ? 
Our  hallowed,  eloquent,  beloved  "Old  Glory!" 


14  "OLD  GLORY!" 

In  thy  dear  colors  honored  everywhere, 

The  great  and  mystic  ternion  we  view ; 
Faith,  Hope  and  Chanty  are  numbered  there, 

And  the  three  nails  the  Crucifixion  knew. 
Three  are  offended  when  one  has  trespassed, 
God  and  one's  neighbor  and  one's  self  aghast. 

Christ's  deity,  and  soul,  and  manhood's  height ; 

The  Father,  Son  and  Ghost  may  here  unite ; 
With  texts  like  these,  divinely  monitory, 

What  wonder  that  thou  conquerest  in  fight, 
Our  hallowed,  eloquent,  beloved  "Old  Glory!" 

ENVOY 

O  blessed  Flag!  sign  of  our  precious  Past, 

Triumphant  Present  and  our  Future  vast, 

Beyond  starred  blue  and  bars  of  sunset  bright 
Lead  us  to  higher  realm  of  Equal  Right! 

Float  on  in  ever  lovely  allegory, 

Kin  to  the  eagle  and  the  wind  and  light, 

Our  hallowed,  eloquent,  beloved  "Old  Glory!" 


The  first  prize  is  awarded  to  your  noble  Invocation  to  the 
Flag  in  the  Pilot  competition. 

I  enclose  a  check  for  one  hundred  dollars. 

I  congratulate  you  on   having  added  a   great  poem  to  the 

permanent  literature  of  Amejica. 

JOHN  BOYLE  O'REILLY. 

It  should  be  known  everywhere.  _ 

INA  COOLBRITH. 

As  ray  by  ray  some  distant  star  discloses 

Its  virgin  splendor  in  a  sky  forlorn, 
As  when  a  new  breath  stirs  among  the  roses 

And  one  new  miracle,  a  flower,  is  born, 
So,  line  by  sounding  line,  I  heard  thy  song, 

Royally  chanted,  spread  vestigial  wings, 
That  grew  to  mighty  pinions,  sweep  along 

Till  it  became  a  harmony  of  kings. 
Thus  Fame  shall  rive  thy  song  from  thee  and  make 

Thy  name  a  handmaid  to  it — ruthless  Fame, 
With  harp  strings  fibred  out  of  hearts — shall  take 

Thy  song  and  sing  it  into  notes  of  flame ; 
Such  music  Michael's  angels  heard  afar, 
Tremendous  legions  treading  to  a  star. 

EDWIN  COOLIDGE. 


A   magnificent   chant   royal,   a   most   difficult   form    of  com 
position. 

AMBROSE  BIERCE. 

A  wild  heart  poet,  with  her  "Old  Gtory,"  her  "Driftwood 
Fire,"  and  many  other  poems  that  flash  *with  color  and  crash 
with  music.  ' 

EDWIN  MARKHAM. 


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1836 


NOV  4  1940 


ftPR  17   19' -8 


Photomount 

Pamphlet 

Binder 

Gaylord  Bros.,  Inc.] 

Makers 
Stockton,  Calif. 

PAT.  JAN.  21.  1908 


YC   14714 


U.C.BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


930841 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


